Lady Lundie shows no signs of leaving the sofa.  She has evidently come to Holchester House to say something—­and she has not said it yet.  Is she going to say it?  Yes.  She is going to get, by a roundabout way, to the object in view.  She has another inquiry of the affectionate sort to make.  May she be permitted to resume the subject of Lord and Lady Holchester’s travels?  They have been at Rome.  Can they confirm the shocking intelligence which has reached her of the “apostasy” of Mrs. Glenarm?

Lady Holchester can confirm it, by personal experience.  Mrs. Glenarm has renounced the world, and has taken refuge in the bosom of the Holy Catholic Church.  Lady Holchester has seen her in a convent at Rome.  She is passing through the period of her probation; and she is resolved to take the veil.  Lady Lundie, as a good Protestant, lifts her hands in horror—­declares the topic to be too painful to dwell on—­and, by way of varying it, goes straight to the point at last.  Has Lady I Holchester, in the course of her continental experience, happened to meet with, or to hear of—­Mrs. Arnold Brinkworth?

“I have ceased, as you know, to hold any communication with my relatives,” Lady Lundie explains.  “The course they took at the time of our family trial—­the sympathy they felt with a Person whom I can not even now trust myself to name more particularly—­alienated us from each other.  I may be grieved, dear Lady Holchester; but I bear no malice.  And I shall always feel a motherly interest in hearing of Blanche’s welfare.  I have been told that she and her husband were traveling, at the time when you and Lord Holchester were traveling.  Did you meet with them?”

Julius and his wife looked at each other.  Lord Holchester is dumb.  Lady Holchester replies: 

“We saw Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Brinkworth at Florence, and afterward at Naples, Lady Lundie.  They returned to England a week since, in anticipation of a certain happy event, which will possibly increase the members of your family circle.  They are now in London.  Indeed, I may tell you that we expect them here to lunch to-day.”

Having made this plain statement, Lady Holchester looks at Lady Lundie.  (If that doesn’t hasten her departure, nothing will!)

Quite useless!  Lady Lundie holds her ground.  Having heard absolutely nothing of her relatives for the last six months, she is burning with curiosity to hear more.  There is a name she has not mentioned yet.  She places a certain constraint upon herself, and mentions it now.

“And Sir Patrick?” says her ladyship, subsiding into a gentle melancholy, suggestive of past injuries condoned by Christian forgiveness.  “I only know what report tells me.  Did you meet with Sir Patrick at Florence and Naples, also?”

Julius and his wife look at each other again.  The clock in the hall strikes.  Julius shudders.  Lady Holchester’s patience begins to give way.  There is an awkward pause.  Somebody must say something.  As before, Lady Holchester replies “Sir Patrick went abroad, Lady Lundie, with his niece and her husband; and Sir Patrick has come back with them.”